Miraculous Snippets
by Fabius Maximus
Summary: Bits and snippets of Miraculous Ideas, some complete, some not.
1. Master Fu's Secret

Master Fu doesn't talk about what destroyed the order. He merely tells Marinette it was a terrible mistake, that he was young.

He doesn't tell her what the mistake was, or _why_ he murdered all of his fellows. Why he burned the place to the ground, did his best to efface its very memory.

Master Fu is 186 years old, and Marinette has never asked, why is it that the world has seen _such _transformation in such a short time. Why, in all the centuries, when an entire order of Miraculous wielders existed, there were so many terrible governments.

The answer is simple. Mages do not create out of the goodness of their hearts. The kwamis were _betrayed_. And for thousands of years, the order used their power. Peasant rebellions failed in the face of reality warping powers, and the great kings and emperors of hte world paid handsomely to obtain such power—and those who didn't, were made examples of. The Mandate of Heaven, far from being a symbol, was real—dynasties rose and fell based on whether or not they maintained the favor of the order.

And not just China. Scientists have come up with theories, but none of them quite explain how a plague could be _so_ virulent that it would nearly depopulate the Americas, leaving them open to conquest.

But the Order could explain it. Disease, after all, is a concept, and one that filled their treasuries with gold. And so the order continued, prospering, striking down groups that might challenge them, molding the earth, and becoming ever richer, not just in gold, but in forbidden knowledge, secrets and favors.

There is a reason, why, even today, the idea of all controlling secret conspiracies seems to be baked into mankind's psyche.

And, looking upon the burgeoning empires of mankind in the 1850s, the Order was prepared to once again unleash their power openly, to cast mankind back down, so that once again, leaders would be desperate for any advantage, and none would think to challenge the Order.

But Master Fu, the newest initiate, was horrified. Horrified enough to conceal his true motivations, to steal into the order's vaults and unleash magic that in a single day and night of purifying flame, scoured them from the face of the world. He took the indestructible kwami, and fled, seeking to be a guardian in truth—to protect the kwami from those who would wield them…

And the world from the kwami.

And without the order, without the blades and sorcery in the night, mankind has moved on. Industry and science flourished, and less pleasantly, so has war. A world that was growing more complex even in his youth has exploded.

Science, technology, a man on the moon—all indirectly the result of Master Fu's decision.

But at night, he also remembers that Stalin, the Holocaust, a thousand wars, are _equally_ his doing. What the Order did was worse, but Master Fu does not seek to dodge his responsibility.

And so, the man with enough power to master the earth lives humbly, in a small shop in Paris, using only the money he has earned with his own work. There is enough gold in the ruins of the Order's monastery to make him wealthy beyond measure, but it is soaked in blood. Fu will not touch it.

He seeks to bring the last two Miraculouses back into his possession to make them safe. But he has another goal.

Marinette does not know it, and Fu regrets it, but her test is not whether or not she will be a good ladybug, but whether or not she will be strong enough to one day become the custodian of powers that could make her an empress—and never use them. Never use them despite the hundred injustices she sees, or the personal sorrows in her own life.

Never give in to the siren song of power that the Order so eagerly embraced. To spend her life bearing a responsibility that would crush others.

Master Fu regrets it, but the Miraculouses are indestructible.

And he is not.

So now, at the sunset of his life, he has no choice but to find another to bear that terrible load.

Have pity for Marinette.


	2. Ghosts and Fallen Angels

**It's not out of bad mice or bad fleas you make demons, but out of bad archangels.**

_C.S. Lewis._

* * *

When Adrien found out that his father was attempting to bring his mother back, and that the Miraculous could do that, he agreed to help.

And he lost his miraculous, his heroic identity, everything. Ladybug had known, or learned. Plagg had betrayed him, and through him, learned of his father's identity and retrieved those miraculous.

Chat Noir ended, Hawkmoth ended, and the war ended.

And Adrien was left with the ruin of his life. His father didn't last very long after that. He didn't know who Ladybug had been, and so he returned to school… for a few weeks. But there was no sense in it, so Adrien returned to a life of tutors, withdrawing from his friends.

And, as such things can do, sorrow turned to fury. He had been greedy once. O_nce_, and it had cost him his mother, his father, his life. All so Ladybug could retain her heroic morality.

And one day, Adrien announced he'd _been_ Chat Noir. He had enough videos to prove that, though he confessed that he never knew who Ladybug was. "A important safety precaution" he said in the interview where he also confessed to trying to steal the miraculous, and what his punishment had been.

That would have been bad enough, but then Adrien spoke of _wishes_. Explaining that the power of wishes was not to be used greedily. But that is it was… the Miraculouses could bring back your loved ones, cure any illness, grant riches… anything.

But he did not come to criticize Ladybug.

Those of a classic bent quickly recognized Shakespeare's "Friends, Romans, Countrymen" speech. But even they were quiet, for what man, what woman, does not remember a beloved father, wife, husband, _child_ taken too quickly? If only they could find this power…

Soon, Paris was quietly grumbling. People, from the city and abroad, prowled the streets, looking for Ladybug. They couldn't find her, any more than Hawkmoth could.

But they could find others. The siren call of "she has it" led to more than a few mobs forming, and foreigners, strangers, anyone who didn't act normal was at risk of being targeted. Historians quickly pegged the similarity to the great witch hysterias of the past.

But Adrien was not finished, for when very serious men came to interview him, he told them everything. Told them of the power that Plagg had so casually spoken of. That a wish could do anything—that a nation with the miraculouses would be _invincible_, that a leader with them would never again fear falling.

There are many nations, and all of them look to even their allies as potential enemies, and with this power, a nation would _need_ no allies. If only they could smoke Ladybug out into the open…

Chloe and her family vanished the night after the hotel was destroyed by a "terrorist" attack. She only had time to leave a frantic note with Sabrina that they were going into hiding, that they had almost been killed, and nobody would _believe_ that she no longer had any contact with Ladybug.

She was the first, but not the last. Alya's family fled Paris, and Alya cut ties with her family, trying to protect them. She vanished. But unlike Chloe, the teenager did not _choose_ to vanish. Alya's fascination with Ladybug proved to be a death sentence. It was not an easy death.

Before she died, her captors knew everything about Rena Rouge, and about Carapace. But news of the brutally mutilated body appearing in the Seine was lost in the threats and fury flying between the nations, as old allies prepared to go to war on even the hint that the miraculous might be found, as nuclear arsenals went to launch on warning, the entire world gripped in a madness of desire for the power of the heavens.

When Ladybug came to Adrien, furiously demanding what he was doing, he laughed in her face. She could use a wish to eliminate this, but at _what cost?_ If saving a single life was too great a price, what would changing the entire world cost? If not, if she desired to remain _pure_, then every death, every horror, would be his gift to her, as mankind fell upon one another like wolves. There was nothing of the brash Chat Noir or the shy Adrien left in the boy who hissed out his hatred for her, not simply accepting blame for what he'd done but _glorying_ in it.

And so Marinette—not Ladybug, never Ladybug again, detransformed in their old place on the Eiffel Tower, holding both miraculouses in her hand. The air was heavy with soot, entire rows of homes burning. Most of the rioters didn't even seem to know what they were rioting for, anymore. Her home was gone, the school, her friends (fled, dead, or in one case, turned into something she no longer recognized), and as ultimatums flew across the globe, so much more would soon be gone. She held out her hands, and made her first and last wish.

* * *

Do you ever wonder why there are _so many legends_ of magic? False, all of them. Our universe is a universe of natural law, of great, impersonal forces. There can be wonder—but it is not found in the magician's book, but the physicist's theories.

But if that's the case, why does there seem to be this sense of _yearning? Why _do people always think about magic, why is it so popular, in books, in games, in tales passed down from father to son? It's almost as if there is something _missing_ from our universe, as if a wish cast out magic, working back to the very beginning of humanity, or even further. But it couldn't fill the hole that still yearns for it.

For good or ill. After all, the tales of magic have just as many capricious genies and evil witches as they do wise men and women. But magic is gone from the universe, and none remember when it existed, for that last wish went back to the very beginning, ensuring that it never _did_ exist.

With one exception. In Paris, there are legends of a ghost. A child, maybe fourteen, maybe fifteen, with blueish hair and bright eyes. She's always searching. You may find her as dusk falls, looking up at the Eiffel tower, as if there should be someone up there. Others have encountered a girl asking them to help her find her bakery or school—on a road where no bakery or school has ever existed.

She's not widely known—something keeps the TV shows and youtube ghost hunters from talking about her, but ask around, and historians and priests will tell you that she's been a legend for as long as there _has_ been a Paris. Inscriptions from before the birth of Christ have been found speaking of the guardian of Lutetia, its genius—and the Louvre has a display with a long eroded statues of a girl with pigtails, hints of blue pigment upon her carven locks…

She doesn't just ask for help—lost children sometimes come home, speaking of a little girl who helped them, and during the Second World War, more than a few resistance groups spoke of "their little angel" a girl who would warn them, lead their pursuers into blind allies and then vanish. Some people claim that when the moon is full she can be seen standing tall upon the Eiffel Tower, looking down over her city. But don't blink, for her form can vanish in an instant, especially if someone notices her.

Others talk about when she comes to _them, _asking for help to look for her little black cat. In the day or night, she'll lead them along narrow alleys, stopping at places, looking like she doesn't quite know where she is, as if the city she has existed in for so very long has changed beyond her recognition.

It always ends in the same way. She looks up at her companion, a sad expression on her face that can shatter the most callous heart, and tells them that her little black cat is gone, that it ran away and when it came back, she could no longer recognize it. She lets her companion's hand go, and thanks them, before she vanishes into the dark, or behind a fountain, leaving the impression that somehow the world is _less_ than it once was.

Those who have seen her can visit one last place in Paris. It's not on any tourist maps, sitting in a secluded corner of the Île de la Cité, a little wooded place, curiously missed by developers. There is a small shrine there, to the Girl of Paris. Those who come there can wonder what terrible penance or duty could hold her spirit to the land for so many centuries, and pray that one day, she will be released from Paris, and finally find her way home.

* * *

AN: There are a wide range of "Adrien finds out about Hawkmoth, tries to help his father." They almost never go well, but not many explore what might happen later. So here we are.


	3. Prison Chats With Hawkmoth

Gabrial didn't expect Ladybug to come visit him in prison. It had been five years since he'd been captured, since he had found out that his son was Chat Noir.

Since he'd been sentenced to life in prison with no possibility of remission.

And here was Ladybug.

"It has been some time," Gabriel said, tugging at his prison uniform.

"Yes."

"In fact, I haven't seen you since the trial." Gabriel's lawyer had tried to force Ladybug to reveal herself, but the court had refused, ultimately compromising on her revealing herself solely to the presiding judge.

Given the amount of publicity and the unwelcome consequences that had attended in regards to his son, Gabriel had to agree with the court.

"I've… Been semi-retired." She tilted her head staring at him.

"Come to see if I have plotted out a new escape attempt?" Gabriel lifted his hands, showing off his manacles. "The warden takes such worries very seriously."

"Because he doesn't know much about the miraculouses, doesn't know that you're effectively powerless."

"Probably wise." Gabriel leaned back and then blinked as Ladybug looked at the camera, did something, and then softly said: "Spots off" to reveal… _Marinette Du Peng Cheng-Agreste? _She put a device gleaming with energy, on the desk and Gabriel immediately realized that there was no danger of anyone overhearing their conversation or seeing Marinette.

"I have a question for you," she said. "How does a wish work?"

Gabriel remained silent, processing the fact that one of the two enemies who had brought him down had been his son's current wife and mother of his grandchild, not that he'd been allowed to see him.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I have need of it." She paused, as if expecting him to explode. Gabriel merely shook his head.

"I'm afraid I'll need more than that, especially since you have the book, and I presume the Guardian knows how a wish works, which tells me that the wish isn't needed to stop a rogue planet hurtling towards earth. It's something personal, something that your hu—my son would not agree with. Something the guardian would not agree with."

"Alya. My friend. You know, the girl who ran the Ladyblog?" Marinette paused, raised her hands, twining them together. "She hasn't been feeling well, lately and we finally got her to get to a doctor—she was always busy, with her baby and all…"

"And the news wasn't good."

"Stage 4 pancreatic—the doctors don't… It's not good. I've been taking care of her baby but—"

"But she was your friend. Emelie was also mine, in addition to being my wife." Gabriel raised his hand to forestall Marinette's statement. "Do you know one benefit of being stripped of your assets, and confined to a prison? "

"I… no?"

"You no longer can avoid your counselor. You no longer have the money and reputation that cause people to write you off as "eccentric" instead of harsher terms that are more accurate." He looked at her. "Mrs. Du—"

"Call me Mrs. Agreste," Marinette said softly. "The other's a handful and after… Everything, I wanted to take the name to remind Adrien how proud I am of him."

"Yes. Thank you. You came straight here. You thought of this and came here, without your husband, without the guardian. Only fortunately, you came to me, and after far too long, after having lost everything, I can tell you it would destroy you. The wish requires a price. And it will be paid in another young mother's health, another child wondering what is wrong. And you will remember it. So tell me, Mrs. Agreste, how long will you endure that price, wondering if the person who pays it is someone you know, or nobody you know, and does that make any difference?"

"I… She's my closest friend. My sister."

"My wife. And I expect that when all is said and done, neither would speak to us ever again if they found they had been redeemed at such a cost." He sighed. "I lost my son, my pride and joy, however poorly I showed it, because I kept focusing on the _chance_ to bring my wife back. Nothing else mattered. It consumed me, and even if you make the wish just walking out of this building, it will consume you as well."

"I hate it," she finally whispered. "Why did we have to know?"

"I don't know. Maybe one day there will be a great catastrophe that only a wish can undo, something worth the price. I can't imagine what it is. That's why I didn't speak of it in court. Let them think that I was a madman, delirious with grief. The consequences of the truth coming out are too terrible to consider."

Marinette closed her eyes, tears running down her face. "I—wish… No. Thank you."

"Young lady, you are the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchild. I destroyed my family: I do not wish the same on you. No thanks are required." He paused and nodded. "Do tell my son that as little as it means to him, I _am_ proud of him. When the moment came, he chose the right course."

"I… I will." Marinette said, standing up. "Tiki, spots on." A flash and moments later, Ladybug stared at him. "If you want I could…"

"Put in a word? There's no need. After years of trying to control fate, I find it refreshing to simply accept it. Good Day, Ladybug… And I hope that the matter we spoke of comes to a happy conclusion."


End file.
